


Hidden in Plain Sight

by bulletincookie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter At Kaer Morhen, this is a whole bunch of softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26810911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletincookie/pseuds/bulletincookie
Summary: Eskel becomes friends with Jaskier while wintering at Kaer Morhen, and realizes the bard is happy to fill his need for warmth and contact with another person. But things always get complicated when feelings get involved, as always.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 26
Kudos: 323





	Hidden in Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

> *gasp* Jaskel?? On my ao3???? never. what a surprise. and yes i know i already wrote one "Jaskier and Eskel fall in love during winter at Kaer Morhen" fic but fuck it its a convenient setting. Thank you to jentaro for the help in making this idea!! And happy bee day to [bees](beeruler.tumblr.com)!!!
> 
> For the fill "I'm in love with you and it terrifies me" from the Witcher Writer's Circle Bingo

Kaer Morhen had stood up to countless young boys enhanced with mutagens, grown adults who still hadn’t lost their spark for mischief, forktails, all sorts of animals, and even a siege. 

But nothing was close to how thoroughly shaken the keep was by Geralt bringing his bard for the winter. 

The minute Geralt and Jaskier arrived to Kaer Morhen, and Eskel and Geralt had embraced and said their greetings, Geralt immediately shoved Jaskier at his fellow witcher with a hissed, “he’s _your_ problem now” and stomped off. Eskel tried to look at Jaskier for an explanation, but Jaskier looked just as confused as he was. Embarrassment tinged Jaskier’s cheeks as the bard mumbled an apology and hurried after Geralt. 

Perhaps Geralt was tired of spending time with Jaskier. Taking the long trek up north and then up the mountain path would do that. Eskel was the first one that came to greet him, since he had been out in the courtyard anyways. So Geralt was probably just pawning Jaskier off to the first person he found to get some peace and quiet after surely dealing with the bard’s whining all the way up the mountain.

That was something Eskel came to learn about Jaskier very quickly. Jaskier had been traveling with Geralt for years now, but still complained about things as if he was new to traveling. His feet ached after just a couple hours of walking around, he got cold too often— fixed easily by a borrowed coat that Eskel loaned him, since Geralt’s clothes weren’t warm enough for his tastes— and he worked up a hell of an appetite just from a few hours of work. 

Eskel prided his title as the rational one of the young wolves left in the school. He had made some…less than rational decisions in the past, but that wasn’t something that the others needed to know. It all happened on the Path anyways, and he could keep his mouth shut over the winter easily enough with those experiences. Unless alcohol got involved, but that wasn’t important. 

What was important was that his entire persona of being “the rational one” was in serious jeopardy, all because of one bard. 

It seemed fine at first. Jaskier was a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stale and worn down keep. He helped out where he could, he chattered on about everything and nothing, and he smelled of sweet berries and vanilla with a hint of spices. 

Yet whenever he was around, Eskel made mistakes he hadn’t made in decades. He didn’t lift a heavy barrel properly, making him pull a muscle in his back. It went away easily, but Jaskier still insisted on giving him a massage to ease the healing and help the pain leave faster. 

So he made one mistake. That wasn’t anything unusual, everyone made mistakes sometimes. But then they kept on coming. 

He left water that was on the fire to boil, and nearly ruined the pot because he forgot about it and it was left to boil until it was all evaporated because Jaskier was composing a song off the cuff about winter, and Eskel loved to listen to it and give input despite his knowledge of music being limited. He couldn’t help but chime in with suggestions and questions whenever they came to mind, he couldn’t possibly hold them back with the way that Jaskier brightened up and beamed every time Eskel proved that he was, in fact, interested in Jaskier’s work. Eskel wanted to throttle Geralt when Jaskier explained he hardly ever got any input from Geralt other than criticizing how he described the monsters.

Then, while taking a walk across the courtyard and through the keep with Jaskier, he took several wrong turns in the huge maze of a keep and somehow ended up in the storage room instead of his bedroom. He hadn’t noticed until he tried to say good night to Jaskier, and Jaskier pointed out that they weren’t anywhere near Eskel’s bedroom. Eskel tried not to think about how Jaskier already knowing where his bedroom was made him feel. 

Now it was two weeks into wintering at Kaer Morhen, and Eskel felt he was at his wit’s end. Maybe meditating would help. So, that night, after they all finished their chores and washed up, Eskel retired to his room early to meditate for a bit before bed. It had been a while after all, maybe he simply needed to meditate and get his head back on straight. 

He first sat on his knees on the bed. It would be much harder to slip into meditation if he wasn’t comfortable after all. He closed his eyes and evened out his breaths, focusing on keeping them steady and slow. He listened to his slow heartbeat and paced his breathing with it. He just had to relax, and wait. So he waited. 

And waited. 

And waited.

Odd, he had always been able to slip into meditation easily in Kaer Morhen, but it felt like there was something gnawing at the back of his mind, just barely being held back. He sat crosslegged on the bed instead, thinking maybe it would help. The thing in the back of his mind gnawed more at him. He took a deep breath and let it out. He needed to let his mind wander, then he’d be able to get to the root of why he couldn’t relax and meditate. 

It was warm in the room, and his stomach was full. He always ate well over the winter, thanks to Vesemir’s cooking and careful storing of food throughout the year. Vesemir went out and did contracts just like the rest of them, though he stuck close to Kaer Morhen to ensure its upkeep throughout the rest of the year. And sometimes the rest of them stopped by to help out as well, if the Path brought them to the area. Though Geralt hadn’t visited often in the rest of the year lately. Because of his bard, he said. 

Geralt’s bard. If Eskel strained his ears enough, he could hear Jaskier plucking away at his lute, sometimes repeating the same tune over and over with very little change between them. Eskel knew that one small change, one small tweak, would make the pieces of the song fit together much better than if it was left as “good enough”—

Just like that, the thought that had been gnawing at him burst out of its confines and charged to the forefront of his mind. 

The entire reason he couldn’t slip into an easy meditative state was because of Jaskier. Of course it was because of Jaskier, he was new to the keep and Eskel’s instincts, the ones that had known Kaer Morhen as _home_ and _safe_ now had someone new intruding in it. Well, not intruding, Jaskier was a welcome guest, but he was still a stranger in Eskel’s eyes. 

They only met once before Geralt brought Jaskier to Kaer Morhen for the winter, and even that was just in passing. He hadn’t said much to Jaskier during that first meeting, too distracted by working out the strategy of a particularly difficult contract with Geralt. Jaskier had sung in the tavern while they discussed plans in the corner, and his voice brought a soothing calmness to Eskel. The contract went off without a hitch, and he and Geralt— and Jaskier, with Geralt— had gone their separate ways once more. 

So of _course_ he wasn’t able to fully and easily relax, there was a stranger in his home. That also explained why he kept making mistakes as if he were still a young witcher. The presence of someone new in the keep was throwing him off. Well, that was easily fixed now that he knew the problem. He just had to get used to Jaskier. 

He followed the quiet lute music to Jaskier’s bedroom, but paused. Should he bother him this late? It wasn’t that late, Jaskier was still clearly awake and full of energy, despite his earlier complaining of how tired he was. But it was past the normal time for people to socialize, it was now reaching that time where it was customary to retreat to a room and spend the rest of the evening alone to wind down and fall asleep. 

But he needed to do this. He needed to get used to Jaskier’s presence in the keep otherwise he could make a serious mistake with terrible consequences, like causing a large hole in the outside wall of the keep or breaking one of the support beams. So he knocked on Jaskier’s door softly, and the lute music quickly stopped. He could hear Jaskier’s hurried footsteps to the door, though there was a pause between Jaskier stopping at the door and actually opening it. Could he tell it was Eskel?

Before he had time to worry about that thought too much, the door opened and Jaskier was beaming at him. “What brings you to my chambers so late?” he asked as he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. A wicked grin was on his face, as if he knew that he was the reason Eskel felt so fidgety. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Eskel gruffed out, then cleared his throat and rubbed over the scars marring his face. “Could hear you playing your lute, figured you couldn’t either. It’s better to spend uh…not sleeping, in company.”

“Very true. Come on in,” Jaskier said with a nod as he opened the door wider and stepped back to let Eskel enter. Eskel stepped into the room, taking a quick glance around. The fire was low, and there was only one half-burned log in it. 

“Do you need more wood? I can get you some,” he offered. 

“Oh thank you but I’m alright. This jacket is quite warm and comfortable,” Jaskier answered, and it was then that Eskel finally noticed he was wearing his red and black striped coat, the one Eskel had without spikes adorning the shoulders. His mouth suddenly felt dry. 

“I’m— glad it is working for you,” he finally managed to choke out. It looked good on Jaskier. It was a bit big, but it hung off of his leaner frame with an elegance and grace that Eskel wanted to keep tucked away in his memories forever. 

“Come sit, make yourself at home,” Jaskier said as he waved Eskel over to the bed. He laughed a bit to himself as he sat down. “Well, I suppose you are home, aren’t you? I’m the one that’s intruding.”

“You’re a guest, you aren’t intruding,” Eskel said as he followed and sat crosslegged next to Jaskier on the bed. Now if only his mind could catch up. 

“Geralt calls it intruding,” Jaskier said with another laugh, though there was something strained behind it. 

Eskel moved closer and bumped their shoulders together. “Geralt’s a jackass that can’t appreciate fine company.”

That made the smile on Jaskier’s face soften, and the bard picked up his lute from where it was laying beside the bed. “Would you like to hear what I’m working on?” 

“Of course.” Eskel leaned back against the pillows and folded his arms behind his head. “What’s it about?”

“I don’t know yet. The tune jumped out at me, I’ll figure out the lyrics later,” Jaskier answered as he shifted to get comfortable. He ended up leaning against the pillows next to Eskel, holding his lute much more loosely and casually than if he were doing a serious performance. He started to play a sweet and light melody, nothing too complex. It was really the same tune repeated, but with slight differences in each iteration to make it sound like its own song. 

Eskel closed his eyes and listened, unintentionally evening his breath out as he let the music wash over him. He floated and listened, even slipping his arms from behind his head to lay them over his stomach so he wasn’t holding tension anywhere in his body. His mind easily cleared, soothed by the gentle music, and his fingers just barely flexed before releasing and relaxing once more. Odd, he felt like there should be something he was holding. He’d save that thought for later. He kept his breath even and steady with the music. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was that he drifted in the waves of Jaskier’s music. It felt like forever and like no time at all before the music drifted to a close and thin fingers brushed through his hair. He slowly opened his eyes, having to blink a few times to come out of the meditative trance he found himself in. 

“Good morning,” Jaskier teased, leaning over him with that warm smile. “You can go back to sleep if you’d prefer, I don’t mind.”

“Wasn’t sleeping,” Eskel replied as he sat up and stretched to get energy flowing back into the rest of his body again. “Just meditating and enjoying your music.”

“Maybe I’ll keep that tune without lyrics then,” Jaskier mused. “A song to help relax and bring peace to even the most tumultuous of minds.” He sat back to grab his journal and quill and start to scribble down something on the pages. 

Eskel smiled as he watched, making no move to get up. “Thank you for that. I hadn’t been able to meditate before in my room.”

“Happy to assist you in your meditative relaxing,” Jaskier replied without looking up from his journal. “Though you really should sleep properly, meditation can only get you so far.” 

“I’ll try. Have a good night Jaskier,” Eskel said as he started to get up, but Jaskier looked up and he suddenly felt pinned by that open and kind gaze. 

“I never said you had to go back. If you’re comfortable, you can stay and sleep in here.”

Eskel slowly eased back down onto the bed, and Jaskier nodded approvingly and went back to scribbling in his notebook. Eskel suddenly wished he had a book of his own to read. Something so simple as sharing a space while they both did their own thing in silence shouldn’t have brought a warmth to his chest, but it did anyways. He slipped under the blankets, and Jaskier pulled his half of the blankets over his own lap. 

“Does the light bother you?” Jaskier asked. “I can put out the fire if it’ll help you sleep.”

“You need to see.”

“Not that badly.”

“Keep it lit,” Eskel finally decided. “It’s nice.” 

It was true, the fire wasn’t roaring but instead was a small flickering light that bathed the room in a warm glow. Jaskier was silhouetted against it, just enough light in the rest of the room and Eskel’s enhanced witcher sight letting him see the faint features of the bard. He could see the way Jaskier’s brow was just barely furrowed, not in frustration but just concentrating. He mouthed words to himself as he wrote, and Eskel assumed he was writing down the notes and tweaks to perfect the tune. If the fire flickered just right, Eskel could get a brief glimpse of the faint freckles that dotted Jaskier’s face. He wanted to reach up and trace their path with his finger, figure out exactly how many painted Jaskier’s face. 

He folded an arm under his pillow and shifted to get more comfortable. He could smell Jaskier’s expensive perfumes and oils on the sheets and pillow, and it made him melt more. He smelled so sweet, but not too harsh on his nose. He must have figured out the perfect amount and kinds of scents to use around a witcher from his traveling with Geralt.

Eskel felt Jaskier shift a bit closer on the bed, and peeked his eyes open to see Jaskier smiling down at him so openly and sweetly that it made his chest twist. “What?”

“It’s rare to see a witcher so relaxed. It’s adorable,” Jaskier replied in a whisper. His free hand reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Eskel’s ear, and Eskel hummed and closed his eyes again. 

“You’ll get used to it. We all relax here,” he mumbled. 

“So what had you not able to sleep? Was it my playing?”

“No. Not your playing. Just you being here.”

“Because I’m an intruder?”

“Not an intruder, just new.” Eskel shifted to get closer, until his face was just a breadth’s away from Jaskier’s thigh and hip. Jaskier’s fingers returned and stroked over his hair again, though this time they didn’t leave after one slow pass. Jaskier continued to pet him, and Eskel could have died happy right then and there. Thin fingers teased and twirled the ends of his hair before reaching back up to run through his hair again. Eskel felt a bit self conscious about how dirty his hair was, it had been a while since he gave it a thorough scrubbing, but he was too relaxed to possibly care about it past the initial thought. He sank into the bed with a content sigh, his senses flooded by Jaskier. 

The soft scratching of the quill on paper, the crackling as the low fire ate steadily away at the rest of the log, the gentle fingers in his hair, and the warmth of being under thick furs and blankets with another body next to him all made Eskel think that maybe this was what true bliss was. He didn’t want to leave that spot ever again. He slipped into something not quite meditation, but not quite sleep, a calm trance that he was pleasantly floating in, but still half aware of everything around him. He wasn’t carefully listening for any threats, and if something happened he wasn’t sure if he could respond quickly, but he was content. He felt safe and warm. 

He was faintly aware of the fingers leaving his hair, and he gave an unintelligible grumble a moment later when he realized they weren’t returning. A sweet voice said something, but he forgot what was said as soon as he heard it. But that didn’t matter, not when the bed was dipping next to him and then there was suddenly a warm body pressed up all along his own. He shifted to tangle their legs together and willed his arm to work enough to sling it over the other person. That sweet scent filled his senses once again, and he took a deep breath of it. He slowly let out the breath as he relaxed further, finally slipping into a deep sleep. 

* * *

In the morning, Eskel was expecting it to not be a big deal— he had slept cuddled up with other witchers all the time before— but when he woke to gentle fingers carding through his hair, he realized that wasn’t going to be the case. He blinked his eyes open and yawned before his vision finally focused and he was greeted by the sight of Jaskier, still sleep ruffled but his blue eyes bright and clear and filled with something Eskel could only describe as _soft_. It was dark in the room, the fire having long since died down, but Eskel swore he could feel those eyes pierce into his soul even if he wasn’t sure if Jaskier could even see him. 

“Good morning,” Jaskier whispered, and Eskel could feel the breath from his words on his own lips. It sent a shiver running down his spine. 

“Good morning,” he replied, letting his eyes drift close again. He sighed and shifted a bit before settling down again next to Jaskier, though he made no move to untangle their limbs. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

“You say that as if this is the last time,” Jaskier said. He tucked his head against Eskel’s chest. “You’re so warm. Are you in the market for a bard by any chance?”

“Careful, Geralt might get jealous,” Eskel murmured back, his thumb tracing up and down over Jaskier’s spine. 

“Geralt can go fuck himself if it means I get you to keep me warm at night.”

Eskel laughed at that, and he gave Jaskier a brief squeeze hug. “Have to admit, I haven’t shared a bed with someone in a while. Used to never sleep alone here, before the siege.” 

“What, you’re telling me Lambert and Geralt don’t like to cuddle at night? I’m shocked beyond belief, truly,” Jaskier joked with a pat to Eskel’s chest. “Well, more for me then. You shall never again sleep alone, not as long as I’m here.” 

Eskel tried not to get his hopes up with that promise. Surely it was just empty words made in the soft atmosphere of the morning, he couldn’t just assume he’d be able to show up at Jaskier’s door every night without consequence. 

Yet, that night after dinner, Jaskier stood and collected his lute with an announcement that he was heading to bed. He started to walk away, but at the realization that he was alone, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Eskel? Will you be joining me?”

“What?” Lambert and Geralt both asked, and Eskel nearly echoed the question, but instead he choked out an affirming noise and nodded. 

“In a minute,” he agreed as he stood to clean up after himself as well. He needed a book, he wasn’t going to be left without it this time. 

The book on higher vampires was completely forgotten the moment he sat down. Jaskier tugged at him to gently guide him into laying down with his head in the bard’s lap. Jaskier rubbed over his temples briefly, and Eskel hadn’t even realized how much tension he had been holding that was now gone like a whisper in the wind. 

“Lovely,” Jaskier cooed, brushing Eskel’s hair away from his face. “You washed up earlier.” 

“Mmhm.” Eskel had to clear his throat to try to get a hold of himself and form words. “Wanted it to be soft for you.” Those weren’t the right words. They were, but they weren’t what Eskel wanted to say. They were too vulnerable, too true. How did Jaskier manage to pull him apart and make him feel so vulnerable and safe? 

And yet, the teasing that Eskel was so used to from other witchers never came. Instead Jaskier hummed and combed his fingers through Eskel’s hair again. “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful.” 

“You can— work more on your music,” Eskel managed to say. “Don’t have to spoil me like this.”

“And if I want to spoil you?” Jaskier asked back smoothly, his voice a cool and clear wave of water that made Eskel sink deeper into that floating, weightless feeling. 

Eskel could only manage to turn onto his side and nuzzle into Jaskier’s thigh. A wordless hum escaped him as he settled more into the bed. He felt so heavy, but filled with overwhelming contentment and feeling _safe_. He slipped out of that trance just long enough to realize that there was a soft rumbling starting in his chest. He was so content he started _purring_. He hadn’t done that— hadn’t _let_ himself do that— in…he couldn’t remember how long. Jaskier’s fingers kept teasing through his hair, petting over him like he was a cat. Eskel felt a bit like a cat in that moment, when he pushed up just barely into the touch and purred a bit louder. 

_That_ got Jaskier’s attention, and the bard stopped and looked down at him with wide eyes. “Is that you?” he asked. 

“Mmhm,” Eskel said, settling down into the sheets again and pausing. “Do you mind?”

“No, no,” Jaskier whispered. “It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve heard. Please, keep going.” 

Eskel felt a bit of fluster at that, but when Jaskier’s hands moved to rub at his neck and shoulders, he melted into a puddle once more and the purring came easily. Another thing Jaskier hadn’t teased him for.

“Oh _darling_ ,” Jaskier whispered. “So stunning.” 

Eskel grimaced at that. He wasn’t stunning, at least not in the way Jaskier said it so reverently and sweetly. But then Jaskier’s fingers resumed combing through his hair, and he couldn’t be bothered to think about that right now. Not when Jaskier was so warm and gentle. He hadn’t realized how starved for touch he had been until now, and he wanted to drown in it for the rest of his life. 

He was just starting to fall into meditation when Jaskier’s voice reached him, a soft melody being hummed to him as Jaskier kept petting him. It was different from what Jaskier was playing yesterday, Eskel faintly noted. Jaskier’s other hand slipped into one of his own, and he gripped onto it weakly. It felt like the last piece he needed slid seamlessly into place and he sank down, his breathing and heartbeat slowing as he held only enough consciousness to listen to Jaskier’s humming. 

* * *

It became a ritual of sorts, after that. Jaskier would retire to his room, and a few minutes later Eskel would follow. By the time Eskel got up there, Jaskier had lit some candles or incense that wasn’t offensive to Eskel’s sensitive nose. The room would be lit just enough to cast it in that dim orange, and Eskel would sit on the bed, sometimes with a book that he would actually get to read, and other times meditating. 

If Jaskier had to work on some music on his lute then Eskel would simply sit next to him on the bed and close his eyes as he let the music wash over him, otherwise he’d sit against Jaskier. With his head in his lap, leaning against his shoulder, leaning back against Jaskier’s chest, or with Jaskier leaning back against him. The last one was his favorite, where he could wrap his arms around Jaskier and hold him tight while laying against the pillows Jaskier had amassed in his room. It was apparently Jaskier’s favorite too, since he could feel Eskel’s purring against his back. 

Slowly but surely, things started to change. Jaskier would help Eskel out with his chores occasionally, or keep him company when he couldn’t help. They would soak in the hot springs together at the end of the day, and sit next to each other at dinner and chat amongst themselves when Geralt and Lambert were distracted by their own playful bickering or card game. 

It was obvious that Jaskier was no longer _stranger_ , but now _friend_. A part of him noted that he didn’t need to spend as much time around him, now that his instincts surely wouldn’t consider Jaskier a threat. Yet when he slipped back to his own room— which had hardly been used in the past few weeks— and attempted to meditate alone, his mind kept drifting back to Jaskier and he couldn’t relax. 

That wasn’t good. 

He furrowed his brow and shifted a bit on his bed. He couldn’t become dependent on Jaskier like this, what would happen when he was out on the Path again? Jaskier was _Geralt’s_ bard. Even if he had joked quite a few times about staying with Eskel throughout the whole year instead of Geralt, they were just jokes. He huffed and flopped down on his bed. He rubbed his cheek against his pillow, but it wasn’t the same as when he laid his head in Jaskier’s lap. 

He surged up and got changed into more comfortable clothes. He needed to have that talk with Jaskier eventually, but right now he was too irritated at himself to even think about it. Before he could stop himself he padded out of his room and down the hallways to Jaskier’s room. He opened the door quietly, having been chided before by Jaskier for knocking when he was welcome any time. A quick peek inside confirmed that Jaskier was already asleep, curled up on the bed and tucked under the blankets and furs. The sight made Eskel smile as he slipped inside and closed the door silently behind himself.

He set about putting a couple more logs in the fireplace and lighting them with Igni to make sure the room wouldn’t be cold in the morning. Once that was done, he lifted the corner of the pile of blankets and furs up so he could slide into bed next to Jaskier. Already he felt better, laying next to his friend. He felt like he could take on an army when Jaskier mumbled something in his sleep and shifted to cuddle up to Eskel, no doubt attracted by the sudden warmth next to him. Eskel draped an arm over him while his other one slipped under Jaskier’s head. 

Jaskier’s eyes slowly blinked open as he hummed, and Eskel gave him a small squeeze around the bard’s waist. 

“Just me,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Jaskier mumbled out something that loosely sounded like an agreement as he slung an arm over Eskel in return and promptly went back to sleep. It made the witcher’s heart warmer than the fire in the hearth.

* * *

Eskel usually woke up before Jaskier most mornings nowadays, and this morning was no different. He woke to Jaskier still snoring away softly next to him, and he managed to crane his stiff neck just enough to see his friend tucked against him, curled up. Jaskier’s long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks in the early morning light in the room, also lit by the last vestiges of the fire in the hearth. Eskel smiled and brushed his thumb over Jaskier’s spine. 

Eskel felt sweaty and sticky, being buried under layers and layers of blankets and furs with a fire going all night in the room. He was pretty sure his arm was going to have to be amputated, it had no feeling left in it from Jaskier using it as a pillow all night. It was only when he took another look at Jaskier’s sleeping face that he noticed the large puddle of drool dripping down the side of his bicep. Yet he just barely repressed a chuckle at how some of Jaskier’s hair was sticking to his arm because of the drool, and how peaceful and soft Jaskier looked in the morning light. 

His friend seemed to nearly glow in the warm light of the fire and the dim light from the sunrise just barely peeking through the window. Eskel brought his hand not currently trapped under Jaskier up to stroke a thumb over his cheek. He felt himself leaning down, his heart beating slow but hard in his chest—

The feel of Jaskier’s breath ghosting over his own lips made him snap out of it, and he jerked away so fast that it tugged his arm out from under Jaskier’s head as he surged up. Jaskier blinked awake from the jostling, his eyes still bleary.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” he slurred, rubbing an eye and yawning. 

Eskel froze. How could he even begin to explain— _reason_ why he was about to kiss Jaskier while Jaskier was still asleep? Jaskier didn’t want him like that. He was _Geralt’s_ bard. Why would he ever have time to spare a second thought for Eskel? At _most_ he would consider Eskel as a good friend. Jaskier’s only known him for a few weeks! Sure there was that time that they briefly saw each other when Geralt and he took on that contract together. 

The pins and needles shooting up his arm finally spur him back into action, and he slipped out of the bed and tucked the furs back around Jaskier with the arm that didn’t feel like it was dead. “I have to go check on the horses,” he managed to say with only a slight tremor to his voice. “Stay in bed a while longer.” 

Jaskier hummed in agreement and snuggled down into the sheets to try to soak up the warmth that Eskel left behind. Eskel put another log in the hearth, lit it up with Igni, and then scrambled out of there as fast as he could. 

He didn’t go to check on the horses, he didn’t have to do that for another few hours if he so chose. Which he did. He chose to instead spend the most of his time doing something truly worth his while: hiding in his room and pacing back and forth while he had a crisis. 

He cursed himself for not thinking of what he was doing. He almost _kissed Jaskier_. When Jaskier surely didn’t think of him the same way. His mind kept coming up with scenario after scenario of what might have happened if he hadn’t stopped himself before he kissed his friend. 

Jaskier might have woken up, and apologized gently to him and said they could still be friends. They couldn’t be though, there would always be that horrible misstep on Eskel’s part plaguing every interaction. Jaskier would be less affectionate with Eskel, he wouldn’t want to share a bed at night any more and sleep curled up with him because of the thought that for Eskel it was something _different_ , something that Jaskier didn’t intend it to be. 

Or maybe Jaskier wouldn’t have woken up at all. But then Eskel would have had to live with the knowledge that he kissed his friend in his sleep, without Jaskier knowing. And that sent a shudder of disgust down his spine. He wouldn’t ever be able to look Jaskier in the eye until inevitably the truth came out, and then Jaskier would surely be so disgusted with him that he’d never talk to Eskel again. Hell, maybe he’d convince Geralt to run Eskel through with his silver sword. 

Perhaps Jaskier would have misunderstood. Taken it as just something friends do with each other, just like how friends share a bed and cuddle up to one another and lay with their head in the other’s lap and sing. Eskel didn’t know if that would have been worse or better. He’d be able to kiss Jaskier, but never for the right reason. Never for the reason he wanted it to be. 

Eskel shook his head to try to get rid of the thoughts drumming through his mind. He needed to stop thinking of what could have been. He needed to plan for what to do now with what _had_ happened. 

So he almost kissed Jaskier, but didn’t. Jaskier didn’t know what almost happened, and didn’t think anything was amiss. Probably. 

He had time to fix this.

The obvious solution was to make the feelings go away. Because if he stopped thinking of Jaskier as a handsome, kind, brilliant bard that lived up to his name of being a heartthrob of the Continent, then they could continue being friends and he could continue having his hunger for being close with another person and sharing body heat sated without it being tainted by things like his heart beating a bit too fast for a witcher or yearning to press his lips to Jaskier’s. 

He couldn’t just make feelings go away with a sign or a slash of a sword, however. He paced more as he tried to think of solutions. A potion, perhaps? There were all sorts of weird potions, maybe one of them would be able to get rid of his feelings for Jaskier. Though the only one that came to mind was one that was meant to dull all emotions completely, not one that would work so specifically towards feelings for one person and still leave the feelings of friendship behind. 

Maybe if he didn’t spend as much time with Jaskier, then the feelings would go away on their own. Surely the only reason they were starting to form in the first place was just natural biology. Jaskier was someone new, in this snowed in keep, that showed Eskel softness and warmth and acceptance where Geralt and Lambert usually showed merciless teasing and Vesemir showed lecturing. He just needed to stop spending all of his downtime with Jaskier, and surely he would be back to normal. 

Easy. He could fight a basilisk with one arm tied behind his back, he could avoid a bard for a short while. 

At first it was much easier than he thought it would be, and he realized with a sinking heart that the reason Jaskier had spent so much time with him before was because Eskel was always inviting him along, or asking for his help. Eskel cursed himself for being a fool, made delirious by the cold, lonely winters usually spent here. This wasn’t love, it couldn’t be really. Not under such forced conditions.

So he continued to avoid Jaskier as best as he could. He didn’t make eye contact with him at meal times, sat between Geralt and Lambert to keep them from pinching and kicking each other under the table, and left to his own room as soon as he was finished with his plate. The first night, Jaskier came knocking at his door, but he stayed still on his bed, even holding his breath. Jaskier knocked again a few more times before giving up and returning to his own room. 

Eskel didn’t sleep that night. He barely meditated. 

The days to come followed suit. He avoided Jaskier as best as he could, only giving short and curt answers when he absolutely had to, and always avoiding his eyes. He started to enlist the help of Geralt and Lambert, who both acted as if they were being left with the task of “babysitting”, as Lambert put it, but Eskel could tell that Geralt was a bit relieved to have his usual friend around more once again, and Lambert quickly warmed up to Jaskier after realizing the bard made an excellent partner in crime for some of his more ridiculous hijinks that Eskel and Geralt never bothered with. Eskel tried not to pay attention to the way that Lambert and Jaskier’s distant laughter made his chest ache. 

So Eskel got good at avoiding Jaskier. He learned the bard’s tells, how he looked when he was thinking of asking to come along, when he was up and about, and where he didn’t like to go in the keep. 

Finally, Jaskier stopped trying to chase him down, and didn’t bother trying to hold conversation with him or get his attention at meals. He should have been relieved, but instead it just _hurt_. It really was for the best though, once his heart moved on from its silly attachment of convenience to Jaskier, they could go back to joking around and ending the hardships of the day with cuddles and smoky incense. 

Which reminded him, he needed to return the books that he had started to amass in his room. He hadn’t felt brave enough to be in one place for too long, not when Jaskier could potentially be there, so he had gotten into the habit of grabbing a book from the library and dashing back to his room to read it. He now had a small library of his own started in his room, which he was surprised Vesemir didn’t have his head for already. He needed to return those books before something happened to them, and now that Jaskier seemed to understand that Eskel needed to distance himself for a bit, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

He gave a brief nod and a grunted good night to the others at the table as he stood and walked back to his room. He gathered up the books in his arms and carried them slowly but surely down to the library. He could hear everyone still in the main hall, chatting and going over what would need to be done tomorrow. He let out a relieved sigh at that. He was safe. 

He put the last book in the shelf where it belonged, and took his time perusing the shelves to find another one to read. One that actually grabbed his interest, instead of just whatever his hand landed on first in his haste to grab one and retreat back to his room. His eyes scanned over the titles, catching on one. 

_‘The Art of Cowardice’_

“Damn, thanks,” he grumbled, his shoulders slumping. Was he being a coward about this? He wasn’t afraid of Jaskier, he was…what, then? 

He didn’t get time to think about it too much, because a hand planted heavily next to him on the bookshelf, and when he turned around to look, there the object of his— some kind of feeling— stood. With wide, watery eyes and trying his hardest to glare even with his lip wobbling. 

“What the _fuck_ — is your problem?!” Jaskier asked, barely suppressing a physical sob, but Eskel could see it in the set of his jaw, of the tangy saltwater that tinged the air. His chest constricted. 

“What?” he asked. He could feel the walls he was starting to get good at building where Jaskier was involved quickly crumbling, just from one sorrowful look from the bard. 

“You’ve been avoiding me. I know what avoiding looks like,” Jaskier said, his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Woah hang on,” Eskel said, putting his hands up in defense. “It’s not— something that you need to worry about. Nothing about you. I needed some space for a while. Then we can go back to being friends.” 

Jaskier barked out a hollow laugh. “Gods save me from witchers who don’t just talk,” he grumbled as he shook his head. He rested his other hand on Eskel’s other side, trapping him in. Eskel could easily push him away, duck under his arms, do anything to get away, but none of the ways that came to mind involved a way to get away without hurting Jaskier in the process, physically or emotionally. So he let the tension fall from his shoulders and dropped his hands to his sides. 

“It’s not about _you_ ,” he started with a grimace. 

“What is it then? Is it— fuck, is it the perfume I wear? Does it not smell good?” Jaskier asked. He took a step back. “Let me get it, it cost a hundred crowns but I’ll throw it out the highest damn window right now if it means you stop—” 

“It’s not the perfume,” Eskel quickly cut in, mainly because Jaskier looked ready to _actually_ throw expensive perfume out of the tower if he didn’t say something. 

Jaskier stopped. “It’s not?” 

“No. It smells pretty good, actually,” Eskel admitted. Jaskier beamed, and Eskel couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at his lips in return at the sight of his friend looking so pleased. But then the smile disappeared as Jaskier wrung his hands. 

“So _why_?” 

Eskel felt the words spilling out before he could even think. “Because I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” 

He stared at Jaskier with wide eyes while the bard’s own mouth snapped shut. Neither of them said a word, Eskel wasn’t sure he could speak if he tried. It felt like he was choking on air, like he needed to run and never look back. 

“Eskel,” Jaskier said slowly, stepping closer and crowding Eskel against the bookshelf once more. “You’re not— not saying this just to try to drive me away, are you?”

Eskel’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He had to swallow a couple of times before finally he managed out a soft, “No. Never.” 

Jaskier slipped his hands up Eskel’s chest. “Can we talk about this?” 

“There’s— is there something to talk about?” Eskel asked, already bracing himself for the inevitable. “I got feelings for you probably because you’re the only person in this place for the next three months that's nice and doesn’t make fun of me for wanting to relax. It’ll go away once I stop spending so much time with you and then we can go back to being friends.”

“And if I don’t want to go back to being friends?” Jaskier asked, leaning up on his toes until his and Eskel’s noses were nearly touching. 

Eskel could feel Jaskier’s breath mingling with his own, and the gears in his head stopped. “What?”

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed and his lips formed into a pout. “Eskel I am literally five seconds from kissing you, don’t you dare ‘what’ me.” 

“Wait are you—!” Eskel was cut off by a soft warmth on his lips, and he nearly melted against Jaskier. He held tight onto Jaskier’s waist, afraid that if he didn’t hold on then Jaskier would turn out to only be a dream, a wisp of the imagination that slipped away in the morning sun. 

When Jaskier finally pulled away after what felt like ages but probably was only a few moments, he smiled at Eskel and even gave a small laugh. “So, I don’t have to throw out my nice hundred crown perfume?” 

Eskel laughed and ran his hand down Jaskier’s back. “No, keep it.” 

“Thank the gods,” Jaskier said as he rested his head against Eskel’s collarbone. “Hoo, I would have if you asked, but it would have been _extremely_ upsetting. I had gotten it specifically to impress you, you know.” 

“Did you?” Eskel brought one hand up to brush his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “Well, consider me impressed.” 

Jaskier laughed again and leaned up for a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good. Want to head to bed? It’s gotten quite cold without my personal heater.” 

“Wait,” Eskel said, gently pushing Jaskier into taking a step back so he could properly look at him. “You..do you— love me?” 

“I was told you’re the smartest one of the group,” Jaskier teased with a grin. “I just kissed you and told you I didn’t want to just be friends. What do you think?”

Eskel frowned. What was the right answer to that question? “…Yes?” he tried to say, though it came out more as a question, and he couldn’t hide the hopeful tilt to his voice. 

Jaskier wound his arms around Eskel to pull him into one more kiss that felt like it stretched on forever. “Eskel, I _adore_ you,” he whispered just as they separated. “I’m so in love with you it _hurts_. The last two weeks without you have been agony.”

Now that he looked, Eskel noticed the dark circles under Jaskier’s eyes, the weariness in his limbs. “You haven’t been sleeping well either?” 

“Darling, I’ve barely been sleeping at all,” Jaskier replied. His yawn only made his point all the more obvious, and Eskel cautiously let go of him. 

“Lead the way,” he said. “We both deserve a good night’s rest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Please leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed it!


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